


See

by megagemini



Category: Destiny (Video Games), Destiny 2 (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Eris Morn - Freeform, Eris-centric, Gen, Homecoming, and put her... in the game..., it would b so sexy if bungie would stop mentioning her in passing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 03:39:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13227336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megagemini/pseuds/megagemini
Summary: The Tower is falling, Eris Morn continues.(Eris hauling ass during Homecoming.)





	See

**Author's Note:**

> I miss my fucking wife...

Eris watched as water turn to vapor on the rocks before her. The City burned as she weaved between gutters and sewage. There were others bellow that shared her thought, Eris, in her invisibility knew they would not be safe for long. Conquerors rarely left room for error, for mercy. It took her three hours of careful progress to pull herself before the City. 

Eris watched as ash rained in Pale Death’s snow, and pulled her cloak above her nose. There are twenty three bullets on her hip, a knife against her calf, and a rifle in her hand. She has survived with less, she has survived from more. Mortal things died with metal, bleed and unsewn with the blunt needle. Ideas and Logic did not. These were odds Eris would accept. It took her twenty minutes until her first Cabal. She gives it three of her bullets ands its beast a hole between the eyes. 

Eris watched as a Titan fell, their shield of Light cracked like a church mosaic. They screamed against the battering shrapnel, against the cage around their Traveler. It looked like a wound, she thinks, an angry, bleeding miasma gored behind bars. She spares a sentimental shot for a Legionnaire's head and an apology lays in the crux of her ribs. There was no Ghost. She knew not to linger when the dome collapsed. 

Eris watched as the flagship was breached; her rifle is spent, and the knife is hot between her palms.There is a moment of clarity in the blended waves of mortar and smoke when she understands who was sent. She is tired and worn and angry, but finds something else to send for the Guardian, the Vanguard’s loyal Light. It takes two hours for her to collapse outside the City Wall, an old wound weeping in remembrance. Her amputated limb, her Light, crying between hollow atoms. Eris’ fingers dig into the frosted earth, iron eating at her mouth, and remembers Eriana’s terrible truth; that even good hearts will die against the Night. Eris, in spite of herself, is surprised. 

Still, Eris watched.


End file.
